


one day, a horn grew from my head

by deepestfathoms



Category: The Prom (2020), The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: Alyssa is NOT related to Mrs. Greene, Blood and Injury, F/F, Greek Gods AU, Hurt/Comfort, Monsters, Mrs. Greene is basically just Zeus, Multi, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Survivor Guilt, The actors are gods, Violence, monster fighting, trust me it’ll make sense later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28415805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestfathoms/pseuds/deepestfathoms
Summary: “Care to make a wager?” Hawkins said. “If I’m right, you let me go.”Veronica raised an eyebrow. “You think your punishment is unjust?”“It’s a bit...” Hawkins grunted as the gaping maw where his liver once was throbbed. He tugged uselessly on his chains. “Much.” He looked up. “Do we have a deal?”Veronica thought it over for a moment. “If you win, I’ll set you free. But if I win, you’ll help me defeat Typhon.” She narrowed her glowing yellow eyes. “No matter what.”“Very well.” Hawkins said. He tried to bite back his smile. “Let the tale of Emma be my redemption!”———Or: The Immortals Fenyx Rising AU nobody asked for
Relationships: Alyssa Greene/Emma Nolan, Angie/Mrs. Greene, Emma Nolan & Kevin (The Prom Musical)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically the movie cast because Emma has blue eyes, but y’all can read it as either the movie or musical idc

Fire crackled and lava roared. Within the embrace of its smoldering heat, a fearsome beast reared its ugly head. Beneath its towering body, cowered a woman.

“Beautiful Hera, mother divine...” A ghastly, guttural voice rumbled, quaking the walls of the mountain. “Wisest Athena, Mighty Poseidon, the earth-shaker. Zealous Artemis, with her deadly aim, said to pierce the heart of even a hummingbird. Painted pigs, all of them. I see you there. Come closer.”

“Help me! Someone help me! Someone—”

The monster whipped around and sunk its wickedly curved claws into the chest of the wailing woman. In an instant, her shouts died off with the gurgling of blood. The creature chuckled darkly, holding up her limb, bleeding corpse.

“None of this is your fault. You’re the victim. All the mortals are.” Typhon said. Slick red blood was oozing onto his tentacles, metallic and rank. “Made in the bone workshops of fools. Jagged reflections of a broken mirror.”

He spread his flaming wings. The mane of snakes upon his back hissed and snapped wildly. The goddess’s body was tossed carelessly, smearing blood across the ground.

“Behold your gods!”

Typhon hulked forward, shaking the mountain with every heavy step he took. The heat became more intense.

“This one killed six innocent children to satisfy her rage. They squabble, burn with jealousy, cheat, fight, and murder.” A sinister smirk spread across his muzzle, baring razor sharp teeth. “They are cruel, vindictive, and selfish. And, like Achilles’ heel, these weaknesses will be their downfall.”

He clenched his claws, sending embers twirling through the air. His four eyes flashed like polished rubies.

“I have no such flaws. The rest have all fallen, but I,” He fanned his wings and stood up to his full height. “I will reign supreme. And there is only one who stands in my way. Only the foulest, most arrogant, narrow-minded, cocksure daughter of the sky who trapped me beneath the earth. The one and only—”

_**“VERONICA!!!”**_

The bird was back.

Of course the bird was back.

While the world fell to the claws of a monster, the eagle seemed unfazed to all the destruction. Like yesterday, like all the days before, it returned for its meal, and beak was just as sharp and oppressive as always. Hawkins struggled in his chains, but the blasted bird clung with its talons and continued to dig into his liver with the desperation of a starving man. Surely there had to be something else to eat on this goddess-damned mountain!

Above, the sky turned white and then the rain, hard and relentless, began, mixing with the already-furious blizzard raging around the peak of the mountain. Another flash of lightning and, this time, thunder accompanied it. The massive boom shook him to his toes and made him feel small in comparison.

Rain and snow formed a slush over his body, coating him like a second skin. It chilled him to the bone, snaking into the open wound where his pecked-out liver once was and sending the skin alight with fresh agony. 

Well. At least it scared the bird off.

The thunder cracked again, but this time he heard something inside of it. A shout. Several shouts, like the wail of anguished souls. He saw lightning, and then in the fading light, he saw shadows leftover.

The Golden Isle was falling. It was falling much faster than he had expected, and that terrified him. 

It wouldn’t be long, now.

A burst of lightning torched the sky, splitting it in two in a magnificent silver slash. With it, came the crackling of powerful bolts, and a figure stepped out from the tempest. 

“Thomas! My favorite almost-brother-in-law! Oh how I have missed you!” Shouted the Queen of the Gods.

Black hair groomed to perfection, as if she were a king’s pampered pet cat, and muscles toned to perfect bulkiness, Veronica looked as pompous and arrogant as she usually did. She seemed unbothered by the storm howling around her, even relaxed in the harshness of its vicious gales. Not even the darkness of the near-black clouds overhead could blot out the glow of her godly body.

“You chained me to a rock and fed my liver to an eagle—” Hawkins started, suddenly brimming with rage. This was the normal feeling when Veronica came around, and he knew he wasn’t the only one who felt such a way.

“Out of love!” Veronica said dismissively. 

Hawkins narrowed his eyes at the goddess. A moment later, a glowing heat lit up from his sockets as he searched time for a reason for this meeting. Even with the storm around him, even with clumps of ice literally frozen to his limbs, he managed to laugh.

“Oh. I  _ see _ .” He said. “ _ You _ need my help. Typhon is free.”

Veronica seemed slightly ruffled. “You fought beside the Titans. Can’t you convince him to stand down or something?”

Hawkins gave her a look. “You think it’s that simple? A little chitchat to make the giant monster stop trying to take over the world?”

“...Well. I was hoping.”

Hawkins shook his head. “He’s blocking my precognition. Not even I can see past him.”

A snarl contorted Veronica’s features. She opened her hand, and a cluster of powerfully-charged lightning crackled in her palm. Hawkins eyed it, then hung his head.

“Go on. Blast me.”

The electricity hissed in agreement, but then Veronica snapped her fist shut. “I can’t!” She warbled. “He took my lightning! He took EVERYTHING! Even the other gods are missing!”

Hawkins would have laughed at how helpless the all powerful Veronica was if the situation didn’t include him, too.

“Look to the mortals.”

Veronica scoffed. “Those messy, selfish, parasitic creatures are done with. They’re all dead or turned to stone. I saw them coming up here.”

“Not all of them.” Hawkins said. “One of those ‘parasitic creatures’ is about to save your royal ass.”

Veronica barked a laugh. “And Artemis is sleeping with a man! Be reasonable, Thomas.”

“Care to make a wager?” Hawkins said. “If I’m right, you let me go.”

Veronica raised an eyebrow. “You think your punishment is unjust?”

“It’s a bit...” Hawkins grunted as the gaping maw where his liver once was throbbed. He tugged uselessly on his chains. “Much.” He looked up. “Do we have a deal?”

Veronica thought it over for a moment. “If you win, I’ll set you free. But if I win, you’ll help me defeat Typhon.” She narrowed her glowing yellow eyes. “No matter what.”

“Very well.” Hawkins said. He tried to bite back his smile. “Let the tale of Emma be my redemption!”

“Oh no. Not one of your stories. How long is this going to—”

A cloud whirled in front of them, pooling like a puddle between the two. Its fluffy surface reflected a ship sailing on a raging ocean.

“My tale begins on a ship at sea. Soldiers returning from a far-away battle run into an unexpected storm.”

Sea spray seemed to shoot out of the cloud as the ship was dragged into a furious hurricane.

“The water tossed and turned. Waves churned to a froth. The line between sky and sea all but vanished.”

Soldiers were shown clinging to the ship’s mast, scrambling across the deck, being thrown overboard by powerful gales and whipping water.

“The mountainous waves descended into valleys nearly as deep as Tartarus.”

“You’re really painting a picture here.”

“It’s an art. Point is, the ship didn’t stand a chance.”

The storm shown in the cloud dissolved away, revealing a shipwrecked beach beneath its dark mass.

“At dawn, the sun rose on the few remaining survivors. The lowest ranked among them, a shield-bearer who dreamt of battle, who had seen nary a battle…”

“Wait, don’t tell me—”

“With dirty blonde hair like mud-covered gold and blue eyes like polished sapphires…” 

“Thomas, that is a CHILD! You’re not telling me a child is going to—”

“Emma awoke.”

“I hope you like that rock, Thomas. Because there is no way you’re getting off it now.”


	2. A Stranger Shore

The first thing she noticed was the smell- crisp ocean and charred wood and old blood. Discomfort followed the moment she realized she was waking up; a bone-deep ache infecting her entire being and a salty breeze blowing on her face. She coughed up lungfuls of water that burned through her throat like acid until she was borderline throwing up.

( _ “I feel like I shouldn’t be watching this.” Veronica said from the peak of Hawkins’s prison. _

_ “You say as if you haven’t watched or done worse.” Hawkins said back. _

_ “...Fair.” _ )

Salty water came bubbling up from her throat, splattering from her busted lips like an arterial spray in an open wound. She coughed with such intensity that her limbs began to tingle and her chest burned like an open furnace, hazing her vision with its dark whorls of smoke. Just when she thought she may suffocate and pass out all over again, the liquid stopped coming up and she could finally breathe again. Taking in oxygen stung, but it felt good, so she heaved in another breath until the blue color left her face. The air was clean and cool and she gasped it in, grateful she was able to breathe deeply for a few seconds before the relief wore off and the agony began; a deep, pulling ache down her entire back. 

She cried out against the sudden onslaught of pain and ground her teeth as she rolled onto her side, screwing her eyes shut. 

She was alright, she was okay, she had been through worse and pain means she was not dead. 

She lay there for a minute letting the obvious bruising along her body seize its song of agony as tears rolled down her cheeks, waiting for the dizziness to stop and the world to right itself.

Then, she opened her eyes and looked at the body lying beside her.

_ ( “THAT’S gotta be traumatizing.” Veronica commented. _ )

Emma screamed. She scrambled backwards, quickly finding herself in the ocean and submerged beneath a small wave from the rolling tide. She stupidly breathed in and her chest was filled with seawater once again. Bubbles exploded from her lips and she shot up, coughing violently. Through the blur of black spots and tears from the salt stinging her eyes, she could see the body lying a few feet away. 

It was Elias. He was one of her cousin’s friends. A good man and a new father, as his wife had been expecting when he left for the battle a few months ago. But now he would never get to see his child, as he was violently impaled through the stomach with a piece of wood.

He wasn’t the only one, though. There were a few other bodies on the bay, too: Aleksander, the best archer they had, with his head smashed to a pulp on a rock; Faddey, stronger than a mountain, skewered on a long piece of wood; Tacitus, always eager to hear her stories, neck bent at an unnatural angle; and Kaapo, just barely older than she was, now bloated and blue from an awful drowning.

Emma covered her mouth to muffle a sob. Tears, hot and salty, burned like venom down her cheeks.

“Oh gods,” She whispered to herself in horror. She clutched her head with both hands and pulled her knees in close as the sea water churned around her. “Gods, gods, gods...”

( _ “This is tragic, Thomas, really. But how is this mess of a mortal going to—“ _

_ “Shh. Just watch and listen.” _ )

Emma wasn’t sure how much time passed, but she cried long enough for her mouth to dry out and thirst to set in. She knew she couldn’t sit in the water forever, so after a quick check of her body—nothing broken, nothing bleeding out—she sat up to survey the wreckage she had just barely escaped. 

What remained of the ship was lying with its nose burrowed in the sand. Part of the hull was gone. All of the cargo was either missing or sprawled across the beach in ruins, too broken to be salvaged. The bowsprit was snapped at an angle and the rudder was lodged precariously from a cluster of rocks sticking out of the water. Smoldered debris littered the sand, but nothing was on fire. The sea had kept the lightning from setting anything ablaze, wanting to wreak havoc on its own. 

It must have been a hell of an impact.

Further up the beach, there was a steep cliff face. The wall of rock seemed to box the bay in, leaving no other exit unless someone wanted to trudge through the water. The others had to have gone up there.

Emma’s knees buckled under her weight when she tried to stand up the first time. She clenched her jaw tightly, then tried again, this time making it to her feet. The bruises all along her body sang together in pain, but she ignored their song of discomfort for the moment. 

“Lochagos! Captain!” Emma shouted as she staggered towards the cliff. Her throat felt as though it was full of sand, scratchy and rough. “Can anyone hear me?”

No answer. She really had to go up there.

Emma’s arms immediately burned as she began to ascend the cliff. Despite the muscle she gained from farming and carrying shields around, she was not fit enough for climbing. She nearly fell several times, even clipping her jaw on a rock ledge once, which only added to the pain she already felt.

As she scaled the cliff, Emma noticed something at the top. A person!

She recognized them as Daichi, one of the strategists for the battle. He was standing at the edge of the cliff, looking down at her, waiting. 

Relief flooded through Emma.

“Daichi!” Emma called. “Daichi! It’s me!”

Daichi didn’t react, but Emma thought she saw his head turn to her. Maybe he was too shocked to speak. Seeing the corpses of close friends could rattle even someone like him.

Emma climbed faster, pushing her muscles to the point where she thought they were going to snap like weak strings. She hauled herself over the edge of the cliff and rolled onto solid ground, letting herself breathe for a moment before lurching up and turning to Daichi.

“Daich—”

And, like that, dread came flooding back in.

Because Daichi was frozen, unmoving, and trapped in a thick encasing of stone.

Emma staggered backwards, her breath catching in her throat. Her jaw fell open, eyes going so wide it was a wonder that they didn’t pop right out of her skull.

“D-Daichi?” She took a tentative step forward and nudged him. His skin was icy cold. “Daichi! Answer me!”

Daichi did not.

Turning her head slowly, Emma looked down a paved path and saw more petrified corpses of people she once knew.

(  _ “Emma saw her Captain and fellow soldiers in the distance. Through a trick of the light, she could almost see them waving and calling to her.” _ )

_ They _ were alive. Emma told herself. They had to be. She could hear them calling to her!

“Captain!” Emma cried, breaking out into a run.

“Emma!” Captain called back. “You may not be your cousin, but I will make use out of you. Come here, girl!”

“Hold my shield,” Said Sahib at his side. “Try not to drop it this time.”

“I didn’t see you there.” Spoke Obasi. 

“Don’t let them get to you,” Gabriel said, as if he were whispering right in her ear. “They’re just jealous. Not everyone has a cousin like yours!”

“Come to us, Emma!” They all said.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” Emma yelled.

But as she made it over, the movements stopped, the voices stopped, and she was met with cold stone.

Tears welled up in Emma’s eyes. She looked around wildly, hoping to see someone alive and breathing, but they were all paralyzed and unresponsive.

“No... No...” Emma whispered. “Greg! Where are you, cousin?”

She hurried down the path, trying to not look at the bodies of her fellow soldiers. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t as bad as the gored ones down on the beach, but...she didn’t know what she preferred to look at.

(  _ “Alone and unarmed, Emma was vulnerable.” _ )

“Stay calm, stay calm,” Emma said to herself, keeping her eyes low as she walked the path. “It’s okay, it’s all going to be okay...”

And then she looked up and she saw the fallen sword of her older cousin, and the anxiety and terror hit her harder than any of the waves had during the storm.

“No!” 

Emma burst into motion and ran to the sword, which had lodged itself in a crack in the stone pavilion she now stood in. And behind it was the stone corpse of her older cousin with all his limbs viciously snapped off.

“GREG!!” Emma shrieked.

She fell to her knees beside the stone body, scraping the skin during the fall. She shook Greg, but her touch did not soften his skin, did not bring the warmth back to his body, did not make color return to his lifeless eyes. 

The tears came faster this time, and they burned worse than before. She swallowed hard, whimpers worming out from her throat as she collapsed over her cousin’s body, crying into his cold, hard chest.

“No, no, this can’t be real... It can’t be!”

But it was. The pain was real and the shipwreck was real and the frozen carcass of her older cousin was real.

“You were always my hero. My North Star.” Emma croaked out through tears. “I’ll bring you back, Greg. I’ll find a way! I’ll bring you back!”

When no answer came, Emma stood slowly and turned away from her cousin. She couldn’t look upon his body any longer in fear of not being able to get up. So, instead, she set her gaze on the sword stuck in stone.

( _ “Emma had never been allowed to hold the hallowed sword, gift from Achilles for bravery in battle.” _ )

Gripping the curved handle, Emma pulled the sword from its earthly sheath. The metal gleamed in the half light as she held it up, inspecting its blade. 

( _ “It balanced perfectly in her palm, as if forged for it.” _

_ “Achilles’s sword, huh? Cousin must have been good in...battle.” _

_ “Is something wrong with your voice?” _

_ “I never got a sword. Just saying.” _ )

Emma turned and watched as a tear seemed to open up in the air, spitting out two red-skinned men clad in bronze armor. She blinked her stinging, bloodshot eyes.

“Woah.” She said. “What was THAT? Hey, who are you guys? Do you know what happened here?”

The two men snapped their heads around to face her. Their eyes seemed to glow like fire beneath their helmets.

“Can you help me? My friends, they—”

One of the men swung at Emma, nailing the metal plating on one of her shoulders. She yelped and jumped backwards in shock.

“Hey!” Emma yelled. She gripped the sword in her hand, understanding that these two were not going to help her.

The first time she swung the sword, Emma’s entire body went with it in its forward assault. She staggered, not used to having a weapon in her hand. She had to twist around sharply to avoid getting her arm cut off and managed to slam the blade into the side of one of the men in the process. Black blood came spilling out of the open wound.

“Sorry!” Emma yelped. “Wait, no— No, I’m NOT sorry! Take that!” 

She swung again, missing terribly when the man dodged to the side. He was unnaturally agile for someone with a gash in its side, and Emma realized these things were not human.

Metal clattered together as Emma deflected a swing from the second man. The vibrations caused by the hit sent shockwaves down her arm, making her muscles throb in a steady rhythm, but she did not let it deter her. She swung her sword upwards and opened a long, oozing wound up the second man’s chest and to his jaw. She plunged the blade into the place where his neck met his collarbone, and he let out a gargled scream of pain before his body combusted into black smoke and embers.

One down, one more to go.

Emma felt a light breeze ruffle her short red hair as the remaining man’s blade swung past her. She stepped back, holding her sword up in a defensive stance. When she got the chance, she cleaved it into the existing wound, eliciting a second scream of pain and even more black smoke and blood.

“By the gods,” Emma panted. “What...what was that? Who were those people?!”

( _ “Her question was met with silence...” _

_ “Yeah, because everyone is turned to stone. Try to keep up, Thomas.” _

_ “Ugh...” _ )

Emma looked around, flicking black blood off her sword. She spotted a statue of Caoimhín, the god of athletes and luck, nearby and jogged over to it.

( _ “Besieged by challenge, totally alone, this young hero was determined to save her fellow soldiers and cousin—” _

_ “Boring! Can we skip this part?” _

_ “No, this is important for the sense of atmosphere.” _ )

“I can get a vantage point from up there,” Emma said, looking up the giant carved body of the athletic god. “Okay, arms, don’t fail me now...”

Using rock ledges, ferns, and vines as her earthly ladders, Emma began to climb up the statue. Her bruises made themselves known once again rather quickly into the climb, but she pushed on, hauling herself up the carving even when her arms quaked with exhaustion.

“Caoimhín, my old friend!” Emma said, sounding a lot happier than she actually felt. Speaking also reminded her about how dry her throat was. “It’s an honor to finally meet you in person! Just don’t tell anyone I’m speaking to you. I got in enough trouble memorizing stories instead of tilling the soil back at home.”

She laughed, even though she vividly remembered the switching she got for doing so. She could almost feel the tongue of the naked tree branch lick against her bare back...

Shaking herself out like there were spiders crawling all over her body, Emma continued to ascend the statue. 

“Also the soldiers,” She began again. Even though her throat was dry and sore, talking to herself helped ward off the ever-growing sense of loneliness welling up inside of her. “Well, they REALLY don’t like a good story. They once threatened to throw me overboard, you know! They said I talk too much. I don’t talk too much, do I? No, I don’t. I talk a normal amount!”

As she reached the final leg of the climb, Emma pulled herself onto the head of Caoimhín. She muttered an apology to him as she pushed herself up onto her feet and looked out at the island stretched before her. And then to the even bigger one right behind her.

( _ “Emma’s destiny was becoming clear—” _

_ “So far, all you have shown me is a mortal soldier who has fought ONE real battle, and Typhon grows stronger by the hour. Don’t toy with me, Thomas.” _

_ “I swear to you that that soldier will be our salvation. For if she fails and Typhon defeats us, Veronica, queen of gods, the world will fall to chaos.” _ )

As Emma scanned the area, she spotted a large temple across the island. A faint glowing seemed to be coming from within it.

“A Temple of Apollo!” She said. “If it has an Oracle or a Seer, they could help me undo this curse!”

Just then, something appeared in the distance. Emma thought it was just a survivor, but then she saw that it was much bigger than any person—and it was flying. 

“A griffon?!” Emma yelped.

The giant winged beast soared through the air, fiery orange and red feathers glinting like fire in the light. In its talons, it clutched a screaming stranger.

“Let me go!!” The stranger yelled. “Help!!”

“Hey!” Emma shouted after the beast as it flew deeper into the island. “Hang on! I’ll save you!”

She ran to the edge of the statue—

—only to skid to a halt when she realized just how high up she was.

Well. There was only one way down.

Taking a deep breath, knowing her life was about to change for better or for worse, Emma jumped and took the plunge into the pond beneath the statue—and into a new adventure she never could have dreamed of ever having.


	3. Life and Death

_ ( “Greg’s sword felt studier and sturdier with every step, a constant reminder of the heavy responsibility of—” _

_ “You gave him your blade? Oh, Achilles...” _

_ “I meant to ask, why exactly would you expect to receive a sword from Achilles?” _

_ “Oh. Uh... As an offering! Just a routine offering...from someone...who gazed into your eyes and told you you were special. That’s all.” _

_ “I see...”) _

Of course, as Emma traversed a path to a small island with a glowing crater on it, she could not hear the chatter of two watchful gods, nor did she realize that they were gazing upon her everywhere she went.

There were more people petrified in stone on the way to the island. These were strangers to Emma, but the sight still made her feel sickened and afraid. Who could possibly do this to people?

After a quick swim, the ocean water a reminder of the shipwreck she had been in just a few hours ago, Emma climbed onto the island. She shook herself off like a wet dog as she traversed the path up to the crater, which was seething with darkness and red light. 

“Hello?” Emma called. “Are you in there? I’m coming to save you!”

Looking to the side, she noticed a bulky gold axe lodged in a large tree beside her.

“I found your axe!” Her eyes slid back over to the weapon. “It kinda looks like the Axe of Atalanta... Must be a replica. Although...”

_ ( “Before she could take it, a terrible force seized the axe and dragged it into the depths of the vault.”) _

“Who knocks at my door?” A deep, guttural voice boomed like thunder. 

Emma stepped back, intimidated. She looked around, but saw no one who could have possibly been speaking to her.

“Uh... No one?”

There was a chilling laugh. “You think that old trick will work on me?” Said the voice. “Come into my parlor, said the cyclops to the sailor.”

And so, Emma did. She leapt into the crater and the dark energy consumed her.

_ ( “And that’s the end of Emma... Perfectly passable story. I won’t lie, there were moments that dragged, but you really got me with that ending! Now, let’s settle up. Time for you to help me against Typhon.” _

_ From the peak of the mountain, Hawkins smirked and tipped his head down at the image of Emma appearing through the black fog of Tartarus.  _

_ “It’s not over yet. Not by a long shot.”) _

Emma sat up slowly after hitting the ground. Despite falling what had to be several hundred feet, she didn’t feel any pain upon impact with the floor. Shaking her head, she looked around.

She was most definitely not in the earth. Instead, she seemed to be floating in some kind of abyss, standing atop a platform that was suspended in midair. There were several platforms, actually, all sturdy and firmly-placed. All around her, the world was black and purple and blue, almost like a galaxy.

“What...what is this place?”

_ ( “Indeed. What WAS this strange place?” _

_ “It’s Tartarus.” _

_ “Just where had Emma landed?” _

_ “TARTARUS! The nasty abyss where I imprisoned Typhon. He must have opened rifts into the vaults of the underworld when he escaped. You know it, I know it. Just say it.” _

_ “Emma was in T... Sure.” _

_ “I hate you!” _

_ “But...aren’t you intrigued?” _

_ “No! Keep going.”) _

Emma climbed up several ledges, making her limbs curse her from the workout they were having to do. She rationalized she could just rest later—and get water, as she was still VERY thirsty.

From the abyss around her, the voice spoke up again, even louder than before. It seemed to come from every side of her.

“You are either very brave, little one, or very foolish. Let’s see if you can meet my challenge, or if you will fall like all the others.”

“Who are you?” Emma called out. “Hello?!”

The voice chuckled. “I can’t see you yet... But I will soon.”

Emma traversed on, flipped levers to raising platforms for her to jump across until she made it to a wide pavilion with something glowing in the center.

“Wings?”

They were some kind of artificial wings, shiny copper membranes connecting to circular locking mechanisms that held everything in place. The glowing blue feathers sticking out of either wing were choppy and frayed, as if someone had ripped them off. 

Emma couldn’t help but grab the wings and inspect them. Then, she reached around and hooked them onto her clothes, right between her shoulder blades. The plate of metal was surprisingly warm as it seemed to fuse against her skin snugly.

“This is amazing!” Emma said, twisting around to try and see her new accessory. As she did so, the wings retracted out of the plate and glowed faintly. She swore she felt lighter with them out. “Woah! No way!”

_ ( “Mortals are so easily entertained,” Veronica muttered.) _

Turning forward, Emma faced a ledge too high for her to jump up to. And for whatever reason, the surface was too smooth and slick to climb. So, she retracted the wings and leapt up, getting a boost up from her new feathery limbs.

“Woah! They actually work! Sort of.”

Emma bounced her way across the platform, getting more and more familiar with the wings upon her back. She nearly missed the axe lying in some rubble because of it, but she managed to stop herself and walk over to it.

_ ( “The Axe of Atalanta. Deadliest of the hunters, swiftest of heroes, fallen at the hands of Typhon.” _

_ “Didn’t I turn her into a lion?” _

_ “You turned a lot of people into a lot of things.” _

_ “I need to stop drinking.”) _

Upon picking up the axe, a cluster of red-skinned men appeared in whorls of smoke. Emma gripped her new weapon in her hands and faced them with fresh vigor.

Bodies went flying with a mere swing of the Axe of Atalanta. Emma found herself cheering for herself as she sent the enemies scattering off the ledge and into the abyss below, feeling powerful and strong as she struck them down.

After the enemies were killed, Emma passed through a large door and up several platforms, where a shrine-like structure sat overhead. Upon its dais, crackled a cluster of electricity.

_ ( “My lightning!” _

_ “Scattered, hidden by Typhon.” _

_ “Okay, that’s it. Emma is finished. No mortal can wield that stuff except me!” _

_ “Oh really?”) _

Emma reached out to the lightning. It seemed to combust upon her touch, its powerful electricity racing through every inch of her body and sending her veins alight with static. Her body spasmed as it was raised in the air by some unseen force.

_ ( “Power surged through Emma. It was too much for her to bear.”) _

“What’s...happening to me...?!” Emma managed to choke out.

_ ( “Bye-bye, mortal!” Veronica said gleefully. _

_ “And then, just like that, it stopped.” _

_ “NO!” _

_ “The wings grounded the lightning. They were made to combat storms.”) _

Emma’s wings unfurled, feathers glowing bright yellow as she contained the power now coursing through her body. 

_ ( “That shouldn’t be possible!” _

_ “And yet. This is just the beginning.”) _

—

Outside of the Vault of Tartarus, across a broken bridge that the wings let her cross, laid smoldered earth. The ground was singed and blackened, and several wagons laid in broken ruins across the ashy dirt and charred grass. It seemed people were trying to leave in a hurry—and by the looks of all the stone humans, they didn’t get very far.

Screaming came from further into the burned valley. The stranger was still alive.

“Hang on!” Emma shouted. “I’m coming!”

She tried her best not to look at the stone people as she traversed the land. Seeing them reminded her too much of what had happened to her cousin and friends. The wounds were much too raw.

“What am I going to do?” Emma said to herself as she walked. “I’m not Greg! I’m not a hero! Telling stories to these fiends isn’t going to do anything! Well, maybe I can put them to sleep and then stab them when their guard is down. But isn’t that a little cruel? Killing something that’s asleep and defenseless? It doesn’t seem—”

Her words cut off abruptly as she noticed something slithering in the grass up ahead. Something big and snake-like.

“A gorgon?!” Emma gasped. “They’re real?!”

At her shout, the snake-maned beast whipped around and growled at her. Its red scales seemed to glint like fresh blood in the light.

“Uh oh.”

The gorgon reared its head, and Emma saw it was doing something with its eyes. A moment later, two bolts of energy shot out at Emma and she leapt away with a yelp.

“OH! I didn’t know that they could do THAT!”

Brandishing her sword, Emma lunged at the gorgon. Almost instantly, she was swept off her feet when its tail swung around and slammed into the back of her knees, causing her entire body to crumple to the floor. She let out a squeal as the gorgon swung its claws at her stomach, and she just barely managed to roll out of the way before her guts were spilled everywhere.

Emma scooted back hastily as the gorgon turned to her again. She jabbed her sword at its exposed stomach and it growled in pain, black blood spurting out of the wound. As it raised its claws for another swing, Emma blindly slashed and stabbed, ripping its midsection right open. She yelped as organs came pouring out, along with two gold bracers, before the gorgon combusted into black smoke and embers.

Emma looked down at the bracers. “I’ve seen these before... It can’t be!”

_ ( “Ah, but they were. Herakles, mightiest of mortals, slayer of beasts, defied Hera and accomplished the impossible wearing those bracers. And now, they belonged to Emma.” _

_ “Those were inside a gorgon’s gut. They’re probably crawling with bacteria! And she’s going to put them on? GROSS!”) _

Emma did. After washing them off in a nearby river, which encased a giant stone turtle, she slipped the bracers on and let the strength flow through her.

“Won’t feel so bad climbing now, huh?” She said to her arms.

_ ( “Is she...talking to her arms?” _

_ “Shh. But yes.” _

_ “Some savior we have.”) _

Emma noticed the flash of a white toga near the turtle-shaped island and perked up.

“Wait! Hang on!”

Her wings gave her a boost as she ran to the front of the turtle, only to find no stranger there waiting for her. But she did see the faint red glow of a Vault of Tartarus inside a hollow in the island, which she blindly jumped into. She was ready to be the hero for this man.

The free fall into Tartarus felt less terrifying with the wings slowing her descent. She was able to land on the beginning platform slightly less roughly than the first time and sprung up with new vigor, even though her throat was still drier than the desert.

“Hey, stranger! If you’re in here, hang on! I’m coming to save you!”

_ ( “So, let me get this straight,” Veronica said as she and Hawkins watched Emma traverse the Vault. “Instead of hitting up the Temple of Apollo to speak with the Oracle, Emma is hightailing it after this stranger?” _

_ “Emma, truly a good person, sought to help the mysterious stranger, but she never lost sight of the fact that she was getting ever closer to the Temple of Apollo and a solution to the terrible curse inflicted upon her cousin and fellow soldiers.” _

_ “Oh yes, remind me to erase my own faults with narration: ‘Veronica, truly a good person, gave away the first child she had with her beloved wife, who then left her because of it.’” _

_ “Wait. THAT’S what happened to your daughter?! I thought you ate her!” _

_ “Oops.”) _

After pulling herself up onto a platform once she finished a puzzle involving cubes and pressure plates, Emma retrieved Odysseus’s bow from a pedestal. Its power seemed to make her hands tingle as she held it.

“Wielding power requires more than deft footwork, Little One.” Spoke the voice, which echoed like thunder throughout the Vault. “Let’s see if you have control.”

“Who are you? Show yourself!” Emma growled.

Once again, there was no answer but a dark chuckle. 

“I’ll find you! Mark my words!”

“Oh, I await our meeting, Little One...”

—

Outside, the sun was beginning to set, bathing the island in gold and orange rays of light. Emma unfurled her wings and extended them to the sunbeams as if they were real limbs.

_ ( “Armed with the agility of Achilles, the speed of Atalanta, the wits of Odysseus, the strength of Herakles, Emma was ready for whatever the future had in store.” _

_ “That’s all? That’s what she’s got going for her? Psh. Good luck, kid.”) _

“Okay,” Emma said, folding her wings back up into their protective plate. “The stranger wasn’t in there. Maybe he went to the temple?”

And so, she crossed the most encircling the island and crossed a bridge littered with petrified stone people. Their faces were captured in frozen horror, completely unaware of their situation.

Or maybe they did know... Could they still hear? See? Were their brains working? Or were they essentially dead?

A scream cut through the dark thoughts shoving their way into Emma’s mind and she whirled around to see the stranger up ahead, surrounded by monsters. 

“Hang on!” Emma burst into motion. “I’ll save you!”

She yanked her axe out from its place on her back and slammed it into the skull of one of the red-skinned men around the stranger. Whipping around, she sent the blade sinking into the stomach of another, then released it for a moment to take out her sword and stab a gorgon through the throat.

By the end of the battle, Emma was dripping with black blood and breathing heavily. She turned to the pillar that the stranger had ducked behind.

“It’s okay! You can come out now!”

“No thanks!” Replied the stranger.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Emma said. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have just stabbed you during the fight. But I didn’t, now did I?”

“True that. So I’m going to go...”

“Emma.” Emma said as the stranger lunged out from behind his hiding spot and attempted to run. He stopped and looked at her.

“Strange name.” He said. The setting sun made his dark skin seem to glow, a bright contrast to the pure white toga he was wearing. “I appreciate the assistance, Emma.” His yellow-green eyes flicked down to Emma’s bracers as they shook hands. “Nice bracelets!”

“Thanks!” Emma grinned at him. “I’m on my way to the Temple of Apollo to see the Oracle.”

“No way! Me too!” The stranger said. “It’s right over there.” He pointed her in the direction of the looming temple.

“Oh great!” Emma said. “I can use all the help I can get. Maybe we can go toge—”

But when she turned, the stranger was gone...along with her bracers. 

“Hey! My bracers!” 

She spotted the stranger running into the temple and growled.

“You rotten thief! I SAVED YOU!”

She ran after the stranger and into the temple, where a Vault of Tartarus sat menacingly. She eyed it, then the cracked open door on the far wall. Slowly, she approached.

_ ( “I know how you feel, kid. You do everything for them, then they betray you.”) _

Inside the room that was lit by twin torches, sat the Oracle. Emma sucked in a sharp breath. Without her consent, the wings unfurled and the tips fluttered with glee.

“Step closer.” The Oracle spoke. “Into the light.” His voice was dry, yet so wise. Croaky, yet smooth. Quiet, yet booming. Emma obeyed him. “The mysteries I offer are as infinite as the grains of sand scattered across the beach. What is the your question?”

“Oh wise Oracle,” Emma bowed to him. “How do I reverse the curse of stone infecting my cousin and the people?”

The Oracle was quiet for a moment. Most likely to contemplate the answer and search what the future held in terms of a solution.

“Wow.” He finally said. “That’s a real question! I don’t know. It’s a mystery.”

Emma blinked. “Well— Then how do I get back my stolen bracers?”

“Ah, another mystery.”

Emma blinked again. “Yes,” She said slowly. “That’s why I came to you. The Oracle.”

“Oh, yes!” The Oracle said. “Well, you see... I’m just the priest. The actual Oracle was turned to stone like everyone else.” He then flashed an innocent grin.

That dread from before came creeping in once again.

“B-but— You—” Emma shook her head. “You have to be the Oracle! You have to tell me how to stop this! M-my cousin! And my friends! They’re trapped in stone and you were supposed to be the one to help me turn them back!”

But the Oracle merely shrugged.

Emma clenched her fists and began to storm out of the temple, only to be stopped by a flash of golden light. She turned to see the Oracle suspended in the air, his eyes and mouth glowing intensely. His voice was not his own when he spoke.

“Mother of your line is not mother of your kin, a mountain, crowned with flowing locks is how you win. The monster shambles, hungry for immortal flaws. The true hero owns them all, stolen from the beast’s jaws. With the hooved herald’s aid, go on the attack, and sooner or later, change them all back. A pearl in rough seas, forge fires lit, a wise child convinced, a feather’s weight of wit. Eldest of Thetis, father overthrown. Hero on high, it is time for you to come home.” 

The Oracle was released, and he and Emma gaped at each other for a moment.

“Woah.” Emma said. “Now THAT was a prophecy!”

“What prophecy?”

“Ugh. Nevermind.”

Emma turned to leave when she noticed someone standing at the front doors. The thief!

“Hey!” 

“Woah, woah, calm down,” The thief held his hands up, then tossed Emma her bracers. “You’re going to need these back for where you’re going. Come with me.”

“No.” Emma said firmly as she put her bracers back on.

“Look, I’m sorry about stealing. It’s just something I do. It’s kind of a problem.” The stranger said. “Are we cool?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“I just needed an offering for an Oracle. I thought you were a nobody, and I didn’t like your face.”

“Didn’t like my—”

“But that’s all behind us! Come on, we have to go.”

Emma blinked as she followed the stranger to the front of the temple.

“We don’t have much time. HE will be here soon.”

“Who?”

“I have just the ticket for you to get back to the mainland,” The stranger went on, ignoring Emma’s question. “I saw those wings you have on. They’re missing a piece. You need to get the other part if you want to be able to fly. And then you need to steal a jar from Aiolos.”

“Wait— Why? What’s all this for?”

“Just trust me!” The stranger said exasperatedly. “Meet me at the top of the observatory outside when you’re finished. I’ll go begin the preparations.”

“Preparations for— And you’re gone.” Emma said, noticing the stranger run out the front doors when she turned back to him. She sighed. “Alright. Into the Vault I go.”

—

“Little One, you’ve made it farther than most. Don’t worry, I’m on my way to greet you right now.”

The voice seemed to come from directly inside Emma’s head as she ventured through the Vault of Tartarus. She solved the puzzles laid out for her with ease, quickly getting up to a battle chamber near the top of the labyrinth.

There, a cyclops was waiting for her.

It was a giant, dark grey thing with blood red marking weaving up and down its limbs and face. Its expression was set in a firm leer, eye a piercing orange, and it was coming right for Emma.

Emma loaded an arrow into her bow and sent it flying at the cyclops’s chest, but was shocked to watch it bounce right off. Her assailant did not wait for her to regain her wits before striking, and although she leapt away, the dirty, jagged yellow nails of a huge hand still scored a line of pain down her right thigh.

A hiss escaped Emma’s clenched teeth, even as she regained her balance and prepared a riposte. She could feel blood seeping through the cloth of her toga. She shook off the pain and swung her entire bow at the cyclops, too consumed with adrenaline to grab one of her actual melee weapons, only to have it feel like she just struck a block of marble. The cyclops chuckled deeply in his throat and slammed his massive arm downwards; Emma barely had enough time to raise her bow to deflect him.

The two of them were locked together, Emma’s sinews screaming, her head pounding. She pushed with all her might, but the cyclops was so much stronger than she was and was starting to push her bow down. The filthy nails of his hand pricked mere inches away from Emma’s face.

And then, from out of nowhere, the cyclops’s other thickly-muscled arms came swinging around and slammed into Emma’s stomach.

With a whoosh and spray of saliva, all of the air left Emma’s lungs. She felt like she was suffocating as she rolled across the ground, gasping and wheezing. 

She had been winded before, and she knew the pain would go away in a moment, but the human body had a tendency to freak out when it didn’t have air. Like, a lot.

The cyclops began lumbering up to her like a giant avalanche. It raised a foot, prepared to stomp on her and break her flimsy spine, and Emma panicked, yanking out her sword and thrusting it upwards. 

That went through.

The cyclops let out a roar of pain as Emma pushed the sword in deeper and deeper. He whipped his body back and forth, crow hopping on one foot, but even when Emma was shaken free, the damage had been done.

Emma pulled her sword free and exchanged it for her axe, which she brought down onto the soft skin of the cyclops’s neck. It combusted into a whirl of black smoke after being nearly decapitated.

Emma stepped back, breathing deeply. She set a hand on her stomach and winced, feeling fresh bruises already forming upon the skin. Her thigh was still bleeding, too, but the flow had reduced down to a trickle that was slowly drying up. She made a note to clean it off later as she walked through the battle chamber and to a pedestal where a jar was sitting.

“Wait.” She blinked at it. “When the thief said this was Aiolos’s jar, I thought he meant it had the wing god on it, not IN it.” She poked it. “There’s no way this little thing can contain the wind!”

A dark chuckle swept through the abyss.

“What a curious little thing you are.” Said the voice. “Don’t worry, Little One. I’m almost there. We have so much to talk about.”

—

Emma found the wing piece up at the planetarium above the temple. Their feathers were glistening like molten gemstones, longing for flight. Beneath their pedestal was a scripture written by the great craftsman, Daidalos, in memory of his son, Icarus. 

The wings felt whole and sturdy on Emma’s back as she climbed up to the top of the planetarium, where the stranger stood on the edge overlooking the mainland.

“Did you get the wings?” He said as she walked over.

“Yup,” Emma unfurled the wings. They glowed brightly in the setting sun. 

“And the jar?”

“I got it.”

“Good! Now, hurry up and get it out!”

“Wh— What is THAT?!”

With almost impeccable comedic timing, a great big storm seemed to engulf the sky. The clouds turned as black as night, seething with red lighting bolts and flickering embers. From it, emerged a beast from nightmares, with two snake tails, a mane of tentacles, wings so huge they looked like they could knock the stars from the sky, wickedly-sharp claws, and four eyes smoldering with bloodlust.

“You deceitful thief!” Roared the monster, and Emma recognized it as the voice from the Vaults of Tartarus. “You dare take something from me?!”

“You stole something from that thing?!” Emma yelped.

“Like I said, it’s a problem!” The thief said.

“Twee goat boy,” Rumbled the monster. “You do not deserve the crown you were given.”

“We will take you down, Typhon!” The stranger yelled back. “Just like before!”

“We?” The monster laughed. “There is no ‘we’ anymore!” It tipped its head at the stranger with a sinister smirk. “Oh how your father belated for mercy as I ripped his horns out from his skull.”

The stranger grit his teeth, then whipped around to Emma. “Emma! NOW!”

Emma jumped and yanked the cork off of the jar. Instantly, winds so strong they nearly threw her to the ground burst forth, knocking the monster backwards into the abyss it came out of.

“Your blood will fall like rain!” Bellowed the beast. “I will paint the land with it!!”

The tear in the air sewed itself back up, and the blackness disappeared from the sky, returning twilight once again. Emma took a deep breath.

“Okay, we need to get to safety, stat.” The stranger said, scanning the mainland.

“Hang on!” Emma said. “What was that monster?!”

The stranger turned to her, his expression hardened, and said, “Typhon.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “THE Typhon?!”

“You have NO idea!” The stranger said. “We have to get to the Hall of the Gods, then we can talk, alright? Are you ready to fly?”

As if they heard the word ‘fly’, the wings unfurled from their plate and stretched out proudly. 

“These were Daidalos’s wings! THE Daidalos!”

“So?”

“So they didn’t work right and killed his son!”

“Oh, psh,” The stranger waved a hand dismissively. “You’ll be fine! Just don’t, you know, fly too close to Helios. You should be able to make it to the mainland without crashing. Probably.”

Emma shook her head. “I don’t understand. First you robbed me, now you’re helping me. Why?”

“Did you not listen to the Oracle? If he’s right, you’re the only one who can stop Typhon from remaking the world.”

“Wait, wait, wait— You think the prophecy is about ME?”

The stranger seemed confused. “Who else would it be about?”

“I don’t know! Someone important!”

He looked around. “I don’t see anyone else, so you’re the lucky winner, kid! Now will you just accept my help already? It’s okay to be the one being guided every once and awhile.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Mother of Hades— How is the ‘hooved herald’ supposed to aid you if you don’t take the aid?”

Emma blinked. “Hooved herald’s aid... Wait a minute. You’re—”

She whirled around and saw that the stranger’s body had changed. He now had the brown-furred legs of a goat, a fluffy bobtail, pointy fur ears, and black horns curved back over his head. He grinned at her, rolling his shoulders as if it was a relief to be back in this form. 

“Kevin!”

“Caoimhín!!”

“What.”

“What.”

They blinked at each other.

“You...are Caoimhín, aren’t you?” Emma said.

“Oh, yeah!” The satyr god of athletics, thieves, merchandise, and wilds said. “But Caoimhín is so uptight, don’t you think? I go by ‘Kevin’ now! I like the mortal names, they’re so fun!”

“No way!” Emma said. “You’re— you’re HIM! Caoimhín!”

“ _ Kevin _ , but yes,” Kevin said. “Now  _ can we go? _ You can ask all the questions you want at the Hall of the Gods. But, for now, we need to get going before Typhon comes back.”

“O-okay. Alright.” Emma said, too shocked to continue babbling.

“Good. I’ll meet you there, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Great! Now, remember what I said about the sun!” 

With that, Kevin turned and disappeared with the flash of green light, leaving Emma alone, jaw hanging open, and her destiny stretched widely out before her.


End file.
